


Time to Kill

by scruffandyarn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: imagine-based
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 15:55:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2275695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scruffandyarn/pseuds/scruffandyarn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based off this: http://imaginethatsupernatural.tumblr.com/post/95050215453/dean-are-you-really-not-talking-to-me-because-of</p>
<p>Imagine eating the last slice of pie and Dean gives you the silent treatment.</p>
<p>Warnings: mild swearing, just fluff</p>
            </blockquote>





	Time to Kill

“Good morning.” You flashed Dean your brightest smile as he entered the kitchen, but he walked past you to the coffee pot as if you hadn’t even been in the room.

You’d thought he’d be over it by now. It wasn’t that big of a deal. You’d even offered to drive into town to replace the stupid pie you’d accidentally finished off the day before. It was one piece, for crying out loud. It’s not like you realized he was planning on eating it, especially since he’d been the only one to eat any of the rest of it.

But no—for the last twenty-four hours, he’d been acting like you didn’t exist. He’d been ignoring you, irritating you and delighting Sam. Sam had assured you it wasn’t you he was laughing at—it was his brother’s childish behavior. That hadn’t made you feel any better.

“Morning, Dean, _________.” Sam shuffled into the kitchen, a bathrobe on and his hair flying. He must have just dragged himself out of bed. Although, you noted, his eyes seemed a lot less sunken in. It really paid to have a day or so of rest from hunting every now and then.

“Morning, Sam.” Dean responded cheerfully, drawing a look from both you and Sam. Dean was never this chipper, even after being fully rested (like that ever happened). He continued to baffle the two of you as he handed Sam a cup of coffee.

“Morning.” You sighed, glancing down at the cup in your hands.

“Still?” Sam sounded surprised. You nodded and Dean pointedly ignored you, turning his entire body away from you. “Don’t you think you’re taking this way too far, Dean?”

“Taking what too far?” Dean sipped his coffee and feigned ignorance.

“It’s like talking to a five-year-old.” In frustration, Sam threw up the hand not holding his coffee. “I don’t know what you see in him.” Sam spun around and headed toward the door he’d entered from. “It’s too damn early for this.” Then he stomped out.

“Dean?” You were greeted by silence. He was standing less than five feet away from you, leaning against the counter, but still, nothing. “Why won’t you talk to me?” He dropped his gaze to his boots, as if they were the most fascinating things he’d ever seen. “Is this still about the pie?” He sipped his coffee. “Dean, are you really not talking to me because of pie?!” You were ready to pull your hair out.

“Yup.” He was looking at you now, but his eyes flashed his annoyance. 

“Why?” His mouth twisted. You knew he wanted to speak, but he’d already broken his silent treatment and he didn’t want to break again. “Please.” You bit your bottom lip and stepped closer to him. He stood up to his full height, but otherwise didn’t move away from you. “Talk to me, please.” You set your cup on the counter next to him and placed your hands on his arm. You could feel your eyes begin to water. “I don’t know what to do to make this better.” Your voice cracked.

“Oh, shit, honey, don’t cry.” He set his cup next to yours and pulled you into his arms, tucking you under his chin. Your hands gripped his shirt and you began to shake in his embrace. “Baby, I—are you laughing?” He gripped your shoulders and pushed you back, holding you at arm’s length. You shook your head no, but it was very clear that you were lying. You pressed your lips together to keep from cackling. “You suck.” He scowled and dropped his hands to his side.

“Dean, love, I’m sorry.” You blew out a breath, calming your giggles. “I just want you to talk to me.”

“So you make me think you’re crying?”

“It worked.” You still held on to his shirt, so you pulled him to you. Despite his frustration, he stepped closer. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize that you were planning on eating the last slice of the pie.” His scowl faded to a frown. “If you give me about an hour, my present for you will be finished.” That got his interest.

“Present?” He asked gruffly and you smiled. His hands finally came up to hold you, resting on the small of your back.

“Yeah. I figured I could go get you a pie, or…I could make you one.” His eyes darted over to the oven to find that yes, it was indeed on. Then he looked back at you, astonished. “I know it’s not the piece I took,” You looked down at your hands. “But maybe it’ll make do?”

“Hey,” using one finger, he nudged your chin up so that you were looking in his eyes. “I’m sorry I got angry.”

“And I’m sorry for faking that whole crying bit.” You did feel bad for faking him out. Yes, he might have been acting like a child, but your behavior just felt a little too close to manipulation for you to just dismiss it without an apology. “I won’t do it again.”

“I don’t know, _________, might come in handy on a case.” He laughed as you stuck your tongue out at him. “An hour, huh?” You felt him begin to rub circles on your back with his fingertips. You nodded. “Got any ideas for how we can spend that time?” You grinned, leaning up to kiss him.

“Oh, ugh—it is too damn early for that too!” Sam groaned. You pulled back, out of the kiss just in time to see him storming off again. You hadn’t even heard him come back into the kitchen, but you did hear the sound of his door slamming shut down the hall. You looked back over at Dean, who simply smirked.

Smiling, you leaned back up, pressing your lips against his. After all, you did have an hour to kill.


End file.
